A Normal Life
by special-rock
Summary: 'I want to be normal, for a while. I want to finish high school. I want to go to college. I want to get a job. I want a normal life.'  After City of Glass Simon just wants to get on with his life. City of Glass compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own anything. Seriously.**

* * *

The river was a murky brown, the kind of colour that conjured images of decay, pollution and rubbish. Of dirt and filth. Of graffiti and trash.

Things no one wanted.

He liked to just sit on the gravelly bank, watching it carry the filth of Manhattan down to the ocean.

The running water, rippling downstream. Pure.

He snorted contemptuously. Pure. This river was anything but pure.

And yet it still made him feel sick, still made him nauseous just to run his sneakered foot along the surface, the tiniest bit of water soaking into the canvas.

Purity.

It was lightening now, and he knew that the sun was just behind the bridge. The dirt of the city would be shuffled underfoot of the many early commuters, and a new day would have commenced.

Day, night, it did not matter to him. They blurred together, and only the presence of the sun alerted him to the differences.

He flinched automatically as the first rays of sun appeared over the top of the bridge, waiting for the burn, the pain.

_Light bright oh sun wait no help burn hurts it hurts burns like fire flesh help_

But it never came.

And the sun continued over the bridge, rising majestically into the sky on some preordained course, and he believed it to be set by –

_Try can think oh throat choking closes up cannot say help oh my choke_

He spat on the dirt, raising his eyes to the morning sky just as the sun washed over him like a wave, bathing him in golden light.

He fell to the ground, lying on his back in the dirt, allowing the sun's rays to embrace him, warm and comforting.

Not like back then.

_Love red freckles love wait sun oh burn my head oh my head pain burning save me_

Nothing like then.

_Burning oh help don't scream no burn pain like needles wait no pain feel fine_

And then he stood up, staring over the river again.

Just once more.

He ran, faster than he should have been able to. He ran, cutting through the sub-culture, past the parks.

He ran home.

Home.

* * *

'Simon?'

Simon stopped in the very act of climbing back though his bedroom window when he heard his mother's questioning voice behind him.

His head jerked back to her voice, and he groaned internally as she rounded the side of the house, a washing basket full of wet clothes under her arm.

'Uh, morning?' he said guiltily, climbing back through the window and jumping the last few feet to the garden-bed, squashing some weeds in the process.

How had he not heard her?

His mother scrutinised him. 'Simon, why were you climbing through your window?'

_Sun oh warmth so nice not like then afraid no more fear no more pain no burning_

'I, um, went for a run this morning and thought you were all still asleep. I didn't want to wake you up by using the front door. You know how it creaks.'

Simon looked at his feet. It was not a lie, exactly.

His mother shrugged. 'Don't worry about it next time. Your sister and I sleep like the dead.' Simon shuffled his feet uncomfortably. 'I don't want you hurting yourself trying to climb through the window.'

'Okay, sure,' he said to the ground. His mother busied herself with the washing, placing the basket on the cement under the washing line and beginning to peg the wet clothes up.

He turned to walk away, to go inside. Though the sun couldn't do anything to him now, he was still used to locking himself in his bedroom, the blinds closed, the windows blacked out.

_Burn pain help stabs like a needle flesh melting smell sickly sweet flesh burns pain_

He stopped as his mother's warm voice sounded from behind him,

'Simon, honey, can you go and fetch some groceries? There's a list on the counter and you can take a fifty out of my wallet. Use the change for a snack, or something.'

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. 'Sure, mum,' he muttered.

He kept on walking.

* * *

The fluorescent lights were intensely bright, and they burned into his irises before his eyes completely adjusted.

If he listened closely, Simon could hear each and every heartbeat of each and every person in the store.

But he did not listen closely. It reminded him of what he was.

What he never wanted to be.

Even so, the sounds echoed through his ears; the ringing of the tills, coins clinking, crinkling plastic bags. Trolley wheels on linoleum, a little dodgy. And voices.

Voices everywhere.

Deep and croaky, like they smoked, or high-pitched children, squealing for the impulse buys on offer. Smooth female voices, warbling male baritone, and dry, sarcastic teenagers, nasally old men and ladies.

Simon ran his fingers over the labels on the cans, grabbing one of the varieties that his mother had listed and placing it in the basket hanging off his arm.

Tomatoes. That was what he had just put in. Tomatoes were one thing that he would have to pretend to eat tonight.

How could he keep it from them for much longer?

And lettuce. Another thing.

Simon browsed the fresh fruit and vegetables section slowly, reaching out every now and then to place different foods in the basket.

Onions. Potatoes. Carrots. Parsnips.

Garlic.

His mother had a wicked sense of humour and she did not even realise it.

But it went into the basket with everything else.

He turned the corner, studying the list with his eyes. Pasta.

Simon's eyes browsed over the selection quickly, scanning for the spaghetti. There it was, in the middle shelf as always.

As always.

_Smell no don't want but like to taste slimy oh sick feel sick no move sick want blood_

He missed food.

He missed all the different flavours on his tongue, all the different textures.

His food only had one taste now. A delicious, amazing taste, but a single taste nonetheless.

And now his mouth tasted bitter, just from thinking about the food. He could not eat it now.

He sighed, putting the pasta in the basket.

Straightening up from his crouch, Simon made his way down the aisle to the oriental food. Sushi rice was next on the list.

Rebecca, his sister, was currently going through a phase where she thought she could cook. Simon and his mother – well, technically only his mother – were subjected to nightly monstrosities served on ceramic plates.

Simon guessed it was sushi next.

He smiled wryly, just a half-smile at best. Rebecca was not the worst cook he had ever had the misfortune to meet.

His smile fell.

It was great misfortune that he had met her.

_Lights pink green blue oh dizzy pretty oh so close sexy drink oh sick shrinking twitch_

That was the beginning.

_Loud bang squeak no just footstep loud hurt cheese help hide dark loud save help me_

Simon sighed again. He had not seen her for weeks now.

He missed her, oh g –

He choked, his throat burning. Had he tried to say that out loud?

He knew that he could not; he was damned, now.

Forever.

He ran his fingers through his hair, over the barely-visible Mark that was carved into his forehead. If one did not know that it was there, it was practically invisible.

Forever was a long time.

He dumped the rice in the basket, squashing the vegetables, and turned the corner into the health and beauty aisle, as it was called.

His usual shampoo was on the second shelf from the top, on the right. It was a plain, black-coloured bottle, no designer brand or anything.

He reached for it, but a strong, callused hand beat him to it.

'Sorry,' he muttered automatically at the same time that the other person did.

He withdrew his hand and looked down at his feet while the other person grabbed a bottle of the shampoo.

'Simon?'

Simon's head shot up to look at the person who had spoken.

Alec Lightwood was standing beside him, his hand around a black bottle, surprised.

'Oh, hey.' Simon nodded to him, pulling down his own bottle of shampoo and putting it in his basket.

Alec did not nod back. 'What are you doing here?' he asked, still shocked.

Simon rolled his eyes. 'I am shopping, obviously. For groceries. Like you.'

Alec recovered himself. 'Oh, right. Yeah, I am. Shopping, I mean. Izzy gave us a list.'

'I gathered,' Simon said dryly, eyeing the trolley behind Alec.

'What? Oh, yeah. Trolley.' He grabbed the handle of said object, depositing the shampoo inside the cart.

'Why are you acting weird?' The blunt question surprised Alec.

Simon looked at him dead-pan, waiting.

Alec looked around him shiftily. 'I'm, uh, hiding from Jace.'

Simon rolled his eyes again. 'Totally understandable. May I inquire as to why you are hiding from aforementioned blonde?'

Alec leant closer, and Simon could clearly hear the beating of his heart without trying. He could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, smell the delicious promise of –

He turned his face away.

The sharp points of his incisors had slid from their sheaths, piercing his lower lip.

Blood spread over his tongue, but it tasted wrong, it made him feel sick.

_He _made him feel sick.

What he was…it was sickening.

'Simon? Are you okay?'

That was Alec, actually asking if he was alright. How things had changed.

'I'm fine,' he muttered. He searched for a subject change, still looking away from Alec. 'What were you going to say?'

'Oh. Uh, Jace is…yeah. He's over there. See for yourself.'

Simon turned his head up the aisle, behind Alec, and his eyes focused in on a tall, blonde figure near the middle of the aisle. His hand darted back and forth, pulling out packages so he could examine them and then replace them on the shelves.

'Wait – is that an _eyelash curler _he's looking at?'

'Shhh!' Alec shushed him frantically. He turned Simon away, their backs to Jace, who was holding a piece of paper that Simon assumed to be Izzy's list. His arm was around Simon's shoulder, and he could feel the warmth in the weight.

_Warm oh yes so warm thirsty oh the taste sweet coppery warm need want need blood_

Alec removed his arm, and Simon was thankful. His fangs were still out.

He breathed deeply through his mouth, closing his eyes.

It had been two days.

And he did not particularly think that being staked in a supermarket was a good idea.

Particularly not with the Mark.

How would they deal with him, if he snapped?

Alec's voice distracted him again. 'We don't know him,' he was muttering. 'We don't know him…'

'Uh, Alec,' Simon hedged, trying not to think about… 'I've got to go now.'

'Oh, right.' Alec nodded to him.

'Good luck with pretty boy over there. Just remind him that if he leaves it on to heat too long, it'll burn his fingers. Courtesy of my sister.'

'Will do. See you, vampire.'

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 'See you around, Alec.'

He turned to go.

'Wait,' Alec called after him.

'Yeah?'

Alec struggled to say it. 'Er…come over tonight.'

'Huh?' He knew full-well that Simon could not enter the Institute.

Simon had that bitter taste in his mouth again. He turned so Alec could clearly see him rolling his eyes.

'Just come. I'll meet you out front at…six?'

'Yeah, sure. See you.'

Simon walked down the aisle, basket in hand, desperate not to run flat-out.

He was a real idiot. Two whole days was too long.

As he paid at the cash register and returned a smile that the flirty girl serving him had flaunted, before booking it out of the store.

As the automatic doors shut behind him, Simon could faintly hear,

'The list says "tampons". Alec, what the hell is a tampon?'

* * *

**A/N: I know it's boring, but this is just an idea I wanted to experiment with. I have a vague idea of where it is going, but at the moment it's slugging along. **

**I'm also sounding quite desperate - Read and Review, please? Virtual Magnus glitter eyeshadow up for grabs...just don't ask how I got it. It's embarrassing. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I wish I owned a Magnus scarf...but sadly, Magnus owns Magnus scarves. Actually, so does Alec. But that is not the point. The point is that I do not own a Magnus scarf. Or any of the MI. FML.**

**Thanks to mioneweasley-witch and jennfaa for reviewing. Really appreciated. It's so encouraging to log on and see those little messages in your inbox...thanks so much :) Eyeshadow all round...and I s'pose you can have cookies too...**

**A/N: I think Simon swears in this chapter. Twice. Bad Simon. Oh, and angel-boy (Jace) only swears once. Well, he's such a little angel, isn't he?**

* * *

The night air blew his dark hair in every direction as he walked up the stairs from the subway to the street that the Institute was on.

It was dark by now, but that did not matter. Not to him, anyway. He could still see perfectly.

He could see every inch of the derelict sidewalk, the dirt blown around by the wind.

He could see through the glamour on the Institute.

He never used to be able to. But that was before, when things were normal.

When _he _was normal.

Simon drew his coat in around himself, not because he was cold, but because the warm material comforted him in the way it felt against his cold skin.

He did not get cold anymore.

As Simon approached the Institute, he could see a dark figure leaning against the church doors, his face smothered in a heavy scarf.

Alec.

Simon walked through the gothic gate, and closed his eyes.

_Go away don't belong away you are damned revenant don't belong unholy_

He ignored the voices, taking a step up the stairs.

He remembered these stairs.

_So tired want to sleep pain blood darkness my neck hurt blood red everywhere_

He had died on these stairs.

He took a deep, unnecessary breath, purposefully striding up them to meet Alec.

'Vampire,' Alec greeted him.

'Shadowhunter.' The corner of Simon's mouth lifted in a mocking smile.

Alec looked a little sheepish. 'I guess it does sound a bit silly, doesn't it?'

'Really silly. I like the scarf, by the way. Present from Magnus?'

Alec's hand darted to the scarf at his neck, his skin looking almost as pale as Simon's against the brilliant rainbow colours. He laughed a little.

'Yeah. He said he couldn't date such an angst-coloured person.'

Simon chuckled, shuffling his feet.

He looked back at Alec, who was watching him disconcertingly. 'So why did you want me to come over. I don't think it was to talk about your rainbow scarf.'

'No, but we can if you want to. In fact, I could even give you one of these scarves – I think I have at least seven now.'

'I'm good.'

'Actually, we got take-away from Taki's and we're staying in to watch movies. Star Warlocks or something. I thought you were into that stuff.'

'It's Star _Wars_.'

'See, I knew it! Come on, the food's getting cold. _I'm _getting cold.' Alec turned to go inside.

Simon stayed where he was smirking mockingly. 'You're forgetting that I, being a vampire, do not eat, and I, being a vampire, do not get cold, and I, being a vampire, cannot enter "inside".'

Alec turned back.

Simon was standing in a patch of moonlight, its light illuminating his pale skin and contrasting with his dark hair. Thin veins showed where the flesh was thinnest.

He truly looked like a vampire.

'I didn't forget,' Alec said quietly.

'Funny, neither did I,' Simon bit back bitterly.

Alec looked at him, _really _looked at him.

He saw the deep bags under his darkened eyes, the slight crease in his brow.

_Looks dark so dark depressed is he anxious something's wrong Simon what's wrong_

The hopelessness in his eyes.

'Look, to quote angel-boy, I'll send you a photo and you can frame it and put it on your nightstand. Right next to Magnus.'

'Magnus has prevalence.'

'Whatever. You were up to the part where you were coming up with a brilliant plan to get me inside.'

'Oh yeah. Climb.'

Simon looked at him. 'Clarify please?'

Alec gestured randomly. 'You know…do your freaky Spideything thing up the wall.'

'It's _Spiderman_, Alec. Seriously, your knowledge of pop culture is dismal.'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever. You just climb up onto the roof, and I'll meet you up there.'

Simon was sceptical, but Alec waved him off towards the wall. 'See you up there.'

'O_kay_ then,' Simon said sarcastically, but Alec was already gone.

Simon surveyed the wall in front of him, remembering that day in Alicante.

_Can I no way wait a second climb up no can't see look at Clary wow she says_

He pressed his fingertips into the stone, willing them to stick.

He was a freak. He should not be able to do this. This was unnatural.

He was unnatural.

The climb to the roof of the Institute was short, considering how long it had looked from the ground.

He swung his body lithely over the wall, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.

The roof was deserted. Obviously Alec had not gotten up here yet.

Simon walked slowly around the rooftop, running his hand along the wall.

The gnawing pain in his stomach was getting more and more painful.

He had not had a chance to sneak some blood past his family this afternoon.

This was dangerous.

He doubled over, gasping, as a sudden stab of pain shot up his throat.

Sliding down the wall, he leant against it for support as he sat on the ground, his face pressed to the cold concrete stones.

_Hungry hurts pain my chest my throat my stomach hurts burns need blood want it_

He should not have come.

Simon struggled to his feet, panting, clutching the top of the wall as he looked down at New York City below him.

The city lights were bright in his eyes, stretching seemingly to the horizon.

And the river, running through the middle.

He could jump, he could leave now.

Before he hurt anybody.

He wanted their blood. Needed it. And it disgusted him.

_Warm flesh teeth sinking biting fresh blood alive blood warm alive red warm hot_

He swore, sinking back down to the ground and pulling his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth rhythmically, knocking his head against the wall every time.

His eyes were screwed shut, and he felt the bitter taste of his own blood again as his teeth tapered to a needle-thin point, cutting into his lip.

He was shivering, but not from the cold.

He was breathing hard, his face buried in his arms, rocking back and forth continuously.

'Simon?'

The voice surprised him, and he jerked, startled.

He had not heard Alec come onto the roof.

But now…now he could feel him, right next to him, his body warm, and his _blood_…

His blood would be warm, too. Hot, warm, he _needed _it.

_Oh so close blood so thirsty hot wet fresh red blood in my mouth in my throat blood_

He _wanted _it.

_Blood want so bad hurts everywhere hurts need blood red fresh alive wait no its Alec_

'Get away from me, Alec,' he whispered.

'What? Why do I have –'

'ALEC.'

Alec backed away, and this time Simon heard the click of the door as Alec disappeared back into the Institute.

Good.

Simon attempted to calm his breathing, taking deep breaths, but nothing was working.

He crawled over to the corner of the rooftop, wedging himself in and burying his face in his hands.

There was something really wrong with him.

As he listened to the New York traffic on the road below, his forehead started throbbing.

No, the Mark started throbbing.

There seriously was something really wrong with him.

So he just sat in the corner, trying not to think about blood.

Oh yes, he was so fucked up.

And he could never have any reprieve. He was eternally sixteen, and immortal.

He groaned, clenching his hands into fists.

He had tried praying, many times over, for forgiveness.

But he was damned. Unholy. Revenant.

And thirsty. Incredibly, horribly lusting for blood.

The door opened again, and footsteps crossed the roof to where Simon was curled up.

Alec.

He ignored him, hoping he would go away again. He had already _told_ him to go away.

The footsteps stopped right in front of him, and warmth radiated down onto his skin.

He shivered involuntarily and he looked up, eyes feverish.

Blood ran down the corner of his mouth from where his fang pierced the skin.

'Here. You look pathetic, vampire.'

Jace.

* * *

Jace held Simon's arm around his shoulder as he helped Simon through the greenhouse and into the back room connecting, wherein laid three couches and an array of blankets.

Simon was shivering, his eyes tightly squeezed shut and his face turned away from Jace, his arm frozen in a way similar to _rigor mortis _around Jace's neck.

'Easy.' Jace detached the arm, and helped Simon collapse onto a couch.

Simon curled up into a ball again, facing the back of the couch, still not breathing.

Jace turned abruptly on his heel, striding purposefully back out to the greenhouse, leaving Simon alone in the room.

Simon took in a deep, shuddering breath.

And winced as his throat burned.

The heat was still permeating the air.

He needed blood. He needed it now.

* * *

'Jace? What the hell are you doing?'

Alec watched, disbelieving, from his seat at the kitchen table, as Jace ripped open the plastic Taki's take-away bag with his fingernails.

Jace shot him a look as his finger ran down all of the different containers. 'You invited the vampire, didn't you?'

Alec looked uncomfortable. 'Well, yeah, I thought he'd like to have a movie night with us.'

Jace gave him the Look.

'Are you serious? No wait, don't answer that. You're _dead _serious. At least you will be if you didn't order for him.'

'It's in the bottom container,' Alec said quickly.

Jace pulled out a thick container, white instead of clear.

He put it on the bench, fumbling around in the cupboards for a cup, swearing loudly as he hit his head on the door.

Alec raised his eyebrows. 'You're actually doing something for the vampire? I thought you hated him.'

'Dislike,' Jace clarified, concentrating as he poured steaming red liquid into the cup, careful not to spill it. 'I _dislike_ the vampire, I don't _hate _him. And he was shitting himself up there. I am saving myself from the horrors of having to hunt him down and stake him for going rogue, sparing Clary from grief and therefore myself, and that _bloody Mark of Cain_…' Jace shook his head, replacing the lid on the white container.

Alec's eyebrows were straining at the skin now.

'So you're helping him?' he asked mildly.

'No,' said Jace through gritted teeth, 'I am helping _myself_.'

And he disappeared out the door of the kitchen and into the darkness of the hallway.

'Whatever floats your boat,' Alec said patronizingly, sipping his coffee.

* * *

Jace kicked the door open wider with his foot, having both hands gripped around the cup to keep it from spilling.

Simon was still on the couch, and Jace could clearly see his shoulders move up and down in a jagged motion before stopping movement completely.

He carefully sat the cup down on the coffee table in front of where Simon was spread out on the couch.

'Vampire?' He gripped the boy's shoulder, shaking him a little. He sighed. '_Simon_?'

Simon turned his face slightly upwards, and Jace could see how unhealthily white the skin looked, except for that violent flush in his cheeks.

'Fuck off,' Simon muttered.

Jace rolled his eyes.

'I got you some blood,' he said, twisting the last word distastefully in his mouth.

At this Simon jerked, but then rolled over to face Jace, sitting up warily.

Jace saw his shadowed eyes dart to the cup hungrily, and flick back up to Jace.

'Go ahead,' Jace offered dryly. 'I don't mind.'

The corner of Simon's mouth twitched.

He reached out with blinding speed to grip the cup, shakily drawing it to his mouth.

_Yes warm oh yes blood hot running my throat oh so good warm so good the blood_

Jace watched with a macabre fascination as the other boy gulped the blood desperately, a single rivulet running down his chin.

He could already see the pale pallor returning, the flush receding. The shakes quelled.

Simon looked away from Jace as he wiped his mouth, staring at the cream-coloured carpet.

He was repulsive.

He looked up at Jace, meeting the other boy's eyes only for a second before looking away again, embarrassed.

'Thanks,' he muttered, his pride gone.

In fact, his pride had been gone the moment he had allowed Jace to help him into the Institute, but Jace did not particularly think that the moment demanded he point that out.

So he simply said, 'No problem.'

That was the nicest thing Jace Lightwood had ever said to Simon Lewis.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this chapter was alright...it's setting up for the Important Thing in the next chapter. Note use of capitals. **

**So...movie night next up. Enter Clary and Isabelle. Simon learns something very important for later...**

**Please read and review...I might be able to get hold of some virtual Magnus Scarves to match the virtual Magnus Glittery Eyeshadow...**


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